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Bjornsson Grey-Bear
Gregor "Grey Bear" Bjornsson, also known by the shortened Bjorn, and known by his Stormcloak nickname The Grey Bear, was a large Nord warrior who lived in the Fourth Era. A citizen of Skyrim, Bjornsson was a fearsome and well-renowned fighter who was known to many as a hero of the province, but to others as a ruthless killer. Bjornsson was a grizzled veteran of many wars, and his experiences formed him into a hardened master of war and killing. Bjornsson first came to know real war as a younger man during The Great War, where he was recruited out of Skyrim and fought under the banner of the Empire. The warrior braved the horrors of this great war against the Aldmeri Dominion, and he was said to have killed around a hundred Altmer by himself. Following the Great War, Bjornsson was so angered by the Empire’s surrender that he fell in line behind Ulfric Stormcloak during his uprising. He was part of the retaking of Markarth from the Forsworn, where he killed many Reachmen. Bjornsson fought with such ferocity and fearlessness that Jarl Ulfric placed Bjornsson on the front line of his Stormcloaks, and he was granted the title “The Grey Bear”. It was within the Stormcloaks that he met Astrek Storm-Bladed, and the two warriors became friends but also something of rivals. Following the Skyrim Civil War, Bjornsson joined Astrek and a handful of other fighters in mounting a defense of the province against the Barbarian King Gargath Blackhammer, and his Blackhammer Clan. It was around this time that the great Nord warrior became best friends with, and eventually wedded the Dunmer nightblade Irileth. Bjornsson wielded a large greatsword of nordic make named "Agnarr", which means "Warrior's Edge" in Atmoran. History Early Life In the year 4E 150, a Nord baby was born in the city of Winterhold, given the name Gregor at birth. He was born to Nord parents, however his mother carried within her the blood of Giants, so it is said. This ensured that her child would be of great size as well. Even upon emerging from his mother's womb, Gregor was a very large baby, but his mother was strong and survived the birthing. Though a fearsome warrior in her youth, the mother was left weakened from the ordeal. At this time, Winterhold was suffering in the wake of the Great Collapse years before. With the harsh wintry conditions and the scarce resources of the Hold, many of the citizens of Winterhold were forced to work extremely hard and scrounge what they could just to get by. Gregor's family was no different. With the boy's mother permanently debilitated from birthing him, daily work came down to Gregor and his father. As time passed and Gregor grew, he came to realize what a horrid existence his family was undergoing. His father was a drunk, and was estranged, cold and cruel towards his son for ruining his wife. Meanwhile the father was also angry at his wife for what he considered to be her "uselessness", and would often verbally and physically abuse her, despite her helplessness to fight back. Still, the work of surviving day-to-day occupied most of Gregor's attention, and he thought if he ignored their problems they would go away. By the time Gregor was a young teenager, he was already as tall as his father. Still, the boy remained kind-hearted from spending time with his mother and speaking to her. She told him stories about the glories of Atmora, tales passed down from her own parents, and theirs before them. She told him about the proud Nord ways, about mighty Talos, and about being kind to all, but being strong when it is needed. In between the constant deathly winters, and his own father's animosity, she was his only comfort, and Gregor was hers. Still, the problems did not go away. The violence in his household only got worse, until it seemed like every day the helpless mother would sustain blows from her drunk angry husband, and Gregor also would be beaten. The boy reflected on his mother's words and teachings every day, and realized he could no longer endure this existence. He came up with the plan to flee from Winterhold with his mother that night. That very night, Gregor awoke his mother and using his great strength, helped her to her feet, before they sneaked as quietly as they could towards the door. However, the mother and son together caused the floorboards of the house to creak. The father awoke still drunk, and seeing the two try and flee, he jumped up in a rage and shoved aside his son as he attacked the mother. Gregor watched for a moment in horror as she was beaten, but resolved to stand by and watch no longer. The boy looked to his mother's old greatsword, Agnarr, which stood on display above the fire pit. In the chaos Gregor ran towards the fire pit and dismounted the massive sword, at first struggling to heft the heavy blade. In the heat of the moment and with a cry of rage, the boy charged his father with the blade, running him through and impaling him. Choking on blood, the father looked in fear and surprise at the massive steel sword buried in his torso, and fell to the ground, dead. Gregor ran to his mother, beaten bloody, and unresponsive on the floor. The boy, in tears tried to wake his mother, but she would not. He checked for her pulse, but there was none. Overcome with grief, the young Gregor embraced his fallen mother and layed with her for the remainder of the night. When the morning came, Gregor awoke atop his fallen mother, and saw his father still laying in a pool of his own blood with the greatsword lodged into his body. Saddened by his action but not remorseful, the boy offered a final prayer to Shor for his mother, before leaving the house and running into the morning snowstorm. Several city guards saw the boy covered in blood, and hollered at him. The large boy began to run from them but the guards gave chase, and attempted to take him down. A single guard tried to tackle him, but was thrown off by the strong Gregor, and it took three more to come upon him and subdue the boy. The guards then, with great effort, hauled him off to jail. Growing Up in Prison Gregor was 15 when thrown into jail by Winterhold's guards, and for years afterwards he was forced to grow up in jail, where he was subject to brutality and harsh conditions on a daily basis. Even at this age the young Gregor was already taller than or just as tall as many of the other inmates in Winterhold. Several of the inmates within the prison saw him, though, as simply a big dummy who, because of his quiet demeanor, would be an easy takedown and the latest subject of bragging. The prison guards at the time even record a time when a veteran inmate, a tattooed wildman-looking Nord antagonized Gregor by shoving him and even punching his jaw. When Gregor had enough, he caught the man's next punch, broke his arm with his great strength, and grabbing hold of his assailant, threw the man into a rock wall, breaking his nose and jaw permanently. This incident earned Gregor a transfer from Winterhold to Whiterun's prison, and after a similar incident involving a prisoner's fractured spine and broken leg, he was transferred again to Falkreath's prison. As Gregor grew into a man, he gained a reputation shortly after this, as a truly formidable person. The smarter prisoners steered clear of him, but the foolish sought to challenge him to prove their own worth, and none of them could match the large man's strength and ferocity. Gregor was hardened from killing his own father, but more importantly he took the lessons his mother taught him of strength, discipline, and honor to heart. He resolved to never sit by and let others cause harm to himself. Of course, sometimes he took this too far. Nevertheless, Gregor refused to belittle his foes or kick them while down, only to hurt them until beaten. Still, Gregor became something of a legend amongst the prison system of Skyrim. He earned several nicknames, such as the Man of Iron, the Mountain, and even Bjornsson, which is Atmoran for "The Bear's Son". Gregor himself took a liking to this name, and decided to use it as his own, and he was referred to by Bjornsson from then onwards. Going to War It was the year 4E 171. Bjornsson, 21, now practically a full-grown man with a great beard, musculature to rival the strongest orcs, and height that surpassed even the tallest Nords, was perhaps the most infamous and feared prisoner in all of Skyrim. He had been imprisoned in Falkreath for a few years now, and with all the incidents involving wounded prisoners, the authorities of the Hold were desperate to be rid of him and transfer him to another Hold's prison. However, none of the others wanted him. That winter though, Bjornsson's life changed forever. On the 30th of Frostfall, the Great War began in Cyrodiil. High Elven armies had invaded the Empire from the south of the Imperial province as well as Hammerfell. It only took a few days for the word to reach the frigid lands of Skyrim. Desperate, Imperial recruiters had crossed the Jerall Mountains, and dispatched to every single city and town on the map. The recruiters, upon arriving within these towns and cities, declared the Emperor's orders; That all able-bodied men and women, 13 years and older, were to report to the nearest Imperial installation to be readied for war - and that failure to do so was considered high treason. This command even applied to prisoners and ex-convicts. Hurriedly, every city began emptying out their prisons of fighting-age inmates, and they each were checked in to the recruiters. Bjornsson was among these recruits. Although initially confused and unsure of what exactly was going on, Bjornsson gladly went along with other fighting-condition citizens to the Falkreath Imperial Camp. He considered it an honor to take up arms for the Empire, and to do battle against any of her foes. Indeed, Bjornsson was taught reverence for the Empire and for Talos, and decided to fight for his own glory and for his god. In addition, the large Nord was itching for a real fight, for the inmates who constantly challenged him were no match for him at all. Bjornsson hoped to face worthy opponents, to experience the fight of his life. He got more than he bargained for. The Great War The Imperial camps were soon overflowing with new recruits, and Bjornsson remained stationed in the Falkreath camp. Days turned to weeks and months and even years passed. All the while, rumors and news were circling within the camps about the progress of the war. All of this served to strengthen Bjornsson's itch to get out and do battle. For this extended period of waiting, the large warrior trained with other Nords and Imperials. Bjornsson was a brawler, as that was the primary manner he fought for his whole life. However through training, he managed to sharpen his skills with his preferred weapon, the greatsword, to a deadly edge. It didn't take long at all before Bjornsson became the fiercest greatsword wielder among all the recruits and even the veterans. His lust for battle, to unleash himself upon the enemy was so strong, he felt he could barely contain it. Finally, in 174, a large number of Nordic legions were rounded up from several Holds to be commanded by the General Jonna. Bjornsson was among these, and finally the veterans and new recruits rallied together and marched through the Jerall Pass, crossing over from Skyrim into Cyrodiil. Bjornsson was amazed at what he saw across the border; rolling fields of green, dense lush forests, and a warm sun shining down; a far cry from his home of Skyrim. Still he was more surprised still by what he saw on the horizon - even as the reinforcements from Skyrim marched into Cyrodiil, they could see the Imperial City aglow with fire. The city had fallen. Though many soldiers cowered in fear and begged to leave, seeing it as a lost cause, General Jonna silenced them and proclaimed that the war was not done. Even with fearful aura and low morale pervading their numbers, Bjornsson bore a grim determination. He could see that indeed these High Elves were formidable opponents, and he knew he was in for the fight of his life. The large warrior offered up praise and reverence to Talos and Shor, and asked his mother and ancestors in Sovngarde to watch over him. It was mere hours later before the fighting began. Bjornsson was assigned to a grouping of warriors whose task it was to cover the retreating Legionnaires from the Imperial City. Bjornsson, adorned in his Imperial colors and wielding a steel greatsword, was among a group of Nord legionnaires that confronted pursuing Aldmeri coming from the City. Bjornsson witnessed himself the cruelty of the High Elves. The elves managed to catch one of the fleeing Legionnaires, and upon doing so they stabbed him repeatedly and mutilated him, laughing all the while. Angered, Bjornsson charged the elves and hewed on of them in twain, and impaled the other viciously. The large Nord's fellow soldiers watched, impressed, as several other Aldmeri attacked the man, but the mangy elves were one by one cut down by the Nord's brutal skill, and one was even kicked by his massive foot in the chest, shattering his ribs and killing him. By the time the last survivors escaped the city, Jonna ordered a retreat. Shortly after, the Battle of the Red Ring began, to take back the Imperial City. When the Emperor gave the order, the armies advanced, and Bjornsson was among the warriors driving south from Cheydinhal towards the south of the Imperial City. Along the way, the large warrior slew many High Elves on the warpath to the Niben River. When the Nords crossed the river, they were met by Aldmeri counterattacks from different directions, and Bjornsson here accomplished one of his most incredible feats, where he hefted back his greatsword, and honing all his brute strength, the warrior slew three Altmer in a single swing, saving several of his comrades as they advanced to the Imperial City. A few days of this merciless siege saw Bjornsson's blade slick with elven blood, and his once clean and tidy tunic ripped and soaked in blood. Toughing through the pain of several successful blows against him, the large Nord continued fighting and killing, protecting the back-line of Jonna's army from counterattacks. Many of Bjornsson's comrades recalled that day with fearful wonder, for they said that not only did he help holds the back-line against the Aldmeri counterattacks, but he actually waded into their numbers and cut them down from within, howling like a wild animal from battle lust. So many High Elves laid dead in Bjornsson's path that eyewitnesses recall it looking like a "golden river". However, Bjornsson's great capacity for anger proved to be a crucial flaw on the final day of the Battle of the Red Ring. He had forgotten the importance of discipline, rather than all-out anger. In his haste, Bjornsson called out to the warriors behind him to follow further into the Aldmeri numbers. He felt that if they pushed the attack against the elves' own counterattack, they could end it completely. Handfuls of soldiers followed after the large Nord, helping to kill more High Elves, but straying away from the rest of Jonna's numbers. The General realized Bjornsson's mistake and called out for him to return, but the warrior did not listen. He had played right into the Aldmeri's hands. Suddenly explosions of shock magic flew towards them and incinerated a score of soldiers, followed by another which killed even more, leaving charred flesh and bones. Bjornsson managed to survive, and he looked forward to see an Aldmeri Mage whom casted the spell. Immediately after this, another vicious counterattack ensued, as the Aldmeri Mage casted a spell opening several portals, from which elven reinforcements came out. However while the mage was distracted, Jonna's battlemage casted a spell which destroyed the High Elf sorcerer. However, the elven soldiers were immediately upon Bjornsson and the survivors. Many other Nords caught in the counterattack were murdered, and Bjornsson himself fought valiantly and killed several elves, but was stabbed through the leg in the process, and he also received his most grievous scar - being cut by an Aldmeri blade up the right side of his face, ruining his cheek and eye. The large warrior fell in exhaustion from the fighting, and was rescued just in time by the extraction force which finished off the remaining elves. Jonna berated Bjornsson for his reckless action if briefly, for the retaking of the Imperial City was still underway and demanded her attention. She recommended he see a healer but Bjornsson refused and continued fighting, even with a wounded leg and blind right eye. The end of the day saw the Imperials victorious and the Imperial City retaken. Bjornsson's action that day was reckless indeed, for his choice as well as the choice of those who followed him, ended up costing the lives of dozens of soldiers. However, Jonna realized quickly that were it not for his unorthodox counter-counterattack, the Aldmeri Mage which appeared shortly after would have likely caused catastrophic damage to the entire army before being stopped. Regardless, Bjornsson was not punished for his actions, but instead received an honorable discharge. With that, the large Nord returned to his home of Skyrim after the war had concluded, and the Aldmeri were driven out of Cyrodiil. Aftermath Though the Great War had come to a conclusion for the time being, many of the soldiers remained in Cyrodiil to watch over the heartland. Many more still returned to their home provinces. Bjornsson, having been honorably discharged, had his military service end involuntarily. If he could have, he would have liked to chase the Elves all the way back where they came from. At the time shortly after the War's conclusion, Bjornsson had heard rumors about unrest stirring up within Skyrim, directed against the Empire, centered in Windhelm. However the great warrior was initially uncaring about this talk. His mind was focused on other things. The horrors of the Great War plagued his mind, along with all the people he watched die in that bloody conflict. With his soldier's pay, Bjornsson wasted many weeks in different taverns as a vagabond, drinking away the memories. However the time came where Bjornsson sought out some way to find peace within. He wanted to pray to Talos again, and thank him for protecting him and inspiring him during the War. He also hoped that he might receive clairvoyance as to what to do with his life next. Several weeks later, Bjornsson arrived in Solitude and was frustrated by the much stronger Imperial presence that pervaded the city, far more than usual. To him, this was Nord land, and to see so many Imperials even acting as police, was out of line to him. When he arrived at the Temple of the Nine, he entered and the large warrior headed straight for the Shrine of Talos, only to find it gone. Confused and bordering on furious, Bjornsson confronted the high priest and demanded to know why the Shrine of Talos was gone. The answer infuriated him. Though he fought in the Great War, Bjornsson had not heard of the war's outcome following the Battle of the Red Ring. He thought that they had won, destroying the Aldmeri army and retaking the Imperial City. When he discovered that all his efforts, and all those who died had done so for nothing, Bjornsson stormed out of the chapel and made haste directly for Windhelm to speak with Ulfric, heir to the throne. Bjornsson was furious at the Empire and especially the cowardly Emperor for, after all that happened, giving in to the Elves whom killed so many and destroyed so much. On top of all this, the Imperial ban on Talos was like a direct kick to his face, the god whom he revered the most, and his own mother's eternal guide. He would not stand for this. Siding with Ulfric With the brutality he learned from prison as well as the Great War, combined with the discipline he learned under the tutelage of the Greybeards, Bjornsson felt he was prepared to undertake his next calling - to fight for Skyrim's independence. Bjornsson however, realized that he needed a weapon. Not just any steel piece would do either, for he remembered his mother's blade, Agnarr. The very blade he used to murder his own father, the same blade his mother wielded when she was a warrior. Bjornsson decided that he wanted to carry a piece of his mother with him as he fought for his home, and her home before him. The large Nord traveled back to Winterhold, the town was at the time, engulfed in a fierce snowstorm. The snow which once chilled him to the bone as a boy, no longer meant anything to him as a grown, massive man. When he arrived in town, not a soul could be witnessed apart from the guards taking shelter from the snow. The town had dried up even more from when he was young. Bjornsson tried to open the door, only to find it sealed off, likely by the guards. Finally kicking the wooden door down, Bjornsson entered his home, exactly the way it was the day he left, except his mother's body had been removed. Looking to the other side of the room, he saw the frozen dessicated corpse of his father, the blade still plunged into his torso. Bjornsson stood upon the corpse and with a crunch, pulled the great blade out, covered in long-dried blood. It had been so long since he looked upon it; Agnarr, a greatsword of classic Nordic make, elegantly crafted yet fierce and befitting a true warrior. Bjornsson, who as a boy once struggled to carry the blade, now as a man hefted the greatsword over his shoulder easily. As if it was meant for him. With that, Bjornsson left Winterhold again, beginning the walk to Windhelm. Along the way, Bjornsson was ambushed by a large bear. The two did battle until the Nord plunged Agnarr into the bear's neck, killing it. Taking a knife he kept at all times, Bjornsson skinned the bear and took it's flesh. When he stopped to camp that night, he made the pelt fit to wear, with the paws of the bear draped over his shoulders. Using this to keep warm, Bjornsson continued on that following day and made it to Windhelm. Traversing the city, the large warrior was saluted and gawked at by Stormcloak soldiers, impressed at him for his great size, and for wearing his bear kill upon his body. Finally reaching the famed Palace of the Kings, Bjornsson opened the great doors and proceeded towards Ulfric directly. The Jarl of Windhelm was taken aback by the brashness of the warrior. Ulfric stated that he was brave to approach the Jarl unannounced, and requested to know his business. Ulfric gazes at the large nord as he enters Windhelm’s war room, his eyes full of an almost disdainful curiosity. He opens his mouth and utters, “I have not summoned you. But I always have time to share words with a brother nord. What is it brings you to me?” Bjornsson slowly draws his immense greatsword, he grasps the hilt and plunges the tip of the blade into the stone floor. With that, the mountain of a nord goes to a knee, his head low. He utters in his throaty booming voice, “I wish to pledge myself to your service, my lord.” Ulfric raises a brow at the warrior’s words, his interest heightened. he responds. “Oh?” He begins to slowly step closer to the warrior. “My heart is gladdened to accept any proud nord into my ranks. But I must wonder, why should I accept your service. Why should I trust you?” Bjornsson keeps his head lowered, looking upon the ground as he answers in his powerful voice, “I fought in Cyrodiil.” Finally the warrior raises his head, and looks upon Ulfric, revealing his scarred right cheek and grey blind eye. “I bled for the Empire. And they abandoned my people.” Ulfric tilts his head ever so slightly at Bjornsson’s words, and speaks, “Then you faced horrors no man should ever have to see. You have my respects, warrior.” After a moment, Ulfric continues, “You have seen firsthand the weakness of the Empire. You understand why I fight.” Bjornsson nods slowly. “I’ll gladly fight for you, lord. And die, if need be. I will give my last breath for this land, and go happily to Sovngarde, to be welcomed by my ancestors.” he says,with determination. Ulfric, moved by Bjornsson’s declaration, accepted his oath, allowing him to join the militia of Windhelm, which formed the root of the Stormcloak Rebellion. It wasn’t long before Bjornsson saw action again, when word spread that Jarl Hrolfdir of Markarth had requested Ulfric’s aid against the savage reachmen who took over the Reach just two years prior. Ulfric’s militia marched across the breadth of Skyrim, all the way to the craggy hold of the Reach. Ulfric led his men from the front, and began the assault against the Reachmen with a thunderous shout that blasted them from the walls. Bjornsson’s ferocity drove him to the very front line in the Retaking of Markarth, the massive nord hurling himself against the savages and cutting into their numbers with Agnarr, his battle lust overcoming him as he and his comrades let Reachman blood spill on the stones of the city. Bjornsson had always hated the wildmen of the Reach, since he saw them as daedra-worshipping fiends that continuously tried to steal rightful Nord land. His experience with Ulfric during and prior to the Markarth Incident increased his nationalistic perspective and racial pride. He had no qualms about murdering the Reachmen, and showed them absolutely no mercy. It was the year 4E 176. The campaign in the Reach was completed, and Ulfric was satisfied with the reclamation. Ulfric proceeded to install Talos worship, in defiance of the White-Gold Concordat. It was at this time that Bjornsson began to become somewhat estranged from his own actions, and his experiences. He remembered all the men and women he watched die during the Great War, and became increasingly troubled with the thought that all of this had been for nothing. He thought about all the people he killed as well. He was not remorseful, but he grappled with the thought that he was letting his battle lust take over him, rather than taking to heart his mother’s lessons of honor and discipline. It was not long before Bjornsson requested to take his leave of Ulfric Stormcloak for a time. Having contributed sufficiently to the cause, Ulfric allowed the mighty warrior to go his own way, until he needed his service again. With that, Bjornsson sought to find peace within himself, to quiet the anger and battle lust, and to find meaning in his life beyond simply killing. Remembering the power he witnessed Ulfric possess, Bjornsson recalled his mother’s stories about the Thu’um, the Voice, and the ancient power of the Greybeards. Bjornsson decided that the monks could potentially help him find meaning, and so the warrior endeavored to make the pilgrimage to High Hrothgar, to learn the Way of the Voice with the Greybeards. Upon arriving in High Hrothgar, the Greybeards could sense his strong spirit which yearned for balance, and endeavored to teach him. They took him in and offered him lodging, and Bjornsson stayed within the monastery learning the Thu'um for a few years. Over the course of his training, the warrior came to master the Unrelenting Force shout. Bjornsson, under the tutelage of the wise Greybeards, had honed his skill with the Unrelenting Force shout, learning how to exert force without effort, how to be powerful but balanced and calm at the same time. It was around this time that Bjornsson had heard rumors that the Companions were recruiting. Bjornsson had always held tremendous respect for the Companions. He was familiar with the tales and their previous exploits, and knew that they fought for kinship and honor. The warrior decided that this would be a suitable next step on his quest to find meaning in his life. Among the Companions It was the year 4E 180. Bjornsson, 30 years old, respectfully took his leave of the Greybeards, and sought to do battle alongside the famed Companions. Traveling to Whiterun, Bjornsson met many young members of the fighting group, all quite a deal younger than him, except for the legendary Kodlak Whitemane. Even upon their first meeting in Jorrvaskr, Kodlak and Bjornsson were fast friends. The Harbinger was intrigued and impressed by the other warrior’s strong spirit and fire in his heart. Despite this, Kodlak could see that he yearned control and discipline. In turn, Bjornsson recognized him as a true Nord warrior and desired to learn from him. This realization and mutual understanding between the two led to a strong friendship between them. From that day on, Bjornsson enjoyed a sense of belonging, with the collection of like-minded warriors all seeking to bring honor to themselves, and attain meaning in their lives. Bjornsson quickly became a part of the family, and saw each and every member of the Companions as his brother or sister in battle. The veteran warrior received steady pay. He was not living like a noble, but he was living, and he was happy. Bjornsson soon found that all he really needed was the company of his friends. He and his family spent many a night drinking, eating, and sharing all manners of tales at the fire,and reveling in between. Over the years, Bjornsson and Kodlak’s friendship continued growing strong, even getting to the point where Bjornsson saw the Harbinger as a father. Kodlak chose to train Bjornsson personally, instructing the large warrior of discipline behind his massive blows, and calmness in the heat of battle. This training, combined with Bjornsson’s raw skills and strength, soon saw him able to best Kodlak in a duel. This led to Bjornsson becoming counted among the Circle. The Harbinger was proud, for he saw not only in his actions, but even in his own dreams, that the mighty warrior could have the potential to take his place. Ten years passed, and Bjornsson was now a middle-aged man. Around this time a rival faction of warriors, the Silver Hand, emerged. This marked a period of tumultuous change for the Companions. Conflicts erupted between the factions, and most of the attention of the Companions went to defending themselves and striking out at the Silver Hand. In order to combat their foes, the Circle attempted to make Bjornsson take on the curse of the Werewolf. However, the warrior refused, for he saw it as dishonorable and like Kodlak, thought it pushed him farther from Shor’s embrace. It was the year 4E 191. The conflict between the Companions and the Silver Hand was at its zenith. One day after returning from a job, Bjornsson returned to find Jorrvaskr damaged, corpses strewn about the grounds. After being briefed on the situation, Bjornsson was heartbroken when he received the horrible news - Kodlak had perished in the Silver Hand attack. Bjornsson could hardly believe it. Yet another whom he loved and cared about so strongly had fallen. Coming to his adoptive father’s side, the large warrior, for the first time in decades, shed a tear. Bjornsson sent his prayers for Kodlak’s soul up to Shor and Talos, asking them to guide him to the Halls of Sovngarde. The remaining members of the Circle called for retribution. Bjornsson and the Circle traveled to Driftshade Refuge, the center of command for the Silver Hand. The Companions laid siege to the fort, and storming in, they slew the Silver Hand within every room and passageway. Bjornsson controlled his rage, harnessing it, and channeling it to make himself a calm killing machine. In the end, the Silver Hand stood no chance against the giant Nord. The leaders of the Hand were destroyed in honorable combat. Bjornsson ended the day with Agnarr soaked in blood, but his mind unclouded with rage or anger. He had never hated the Silver Hand. This was simply a debt repaid. He had achieved discipline and calmness in combat. Following this, the Circle traveled to the Tomb of Ysgramor in the far north, laying their Harbinger’s body to rest. All together they performed the final rites to cleanse Kodlak’s soul of his lycanthropy. Kodlak’s spirit appeared before them, and gladdened, offered his goodbyes before naming Bjornsson as his successor. The large warrior was taken aback, he did not consider himself a leader and respectfully protested. “Kodlak, you’re mistaken. I’m no leader.” Bjornsson utters, somberly in his throaty, deep voice. His eyes seem to well up at the sight of his Harbinger’s spirit. “I’m not worthy of taking your place.” The ethereal form of Kodlak shakes his head slowly, smiling warmly at the large warrior. “You are more worthy than you know.” He adds, placing a hand on Bjornsson’s shoulder. “You can be a leader. For a leader is not measured by the authority of his orders. But by inspiring those who follow.” With those last words, Kodlak’s spirit vanished. From that day forward, Bjornsson became known as the Harbinger of the Companions. The warrior took his mentor’s words to heart, and remembering also the lessons of his mother, Bjornsson vowed to live a life of honor and discipline, and to lead by example. In time he became respected by all the Companions, and over the many years following, he gained a reputation as a great leader. Back into the Fight It is the year 4E 201. Bjornsson had remained the Harbinger of the Companions for nigh upon a decade, now aged 51 years. His great beard had grown grey, and his mind and heart were far more matured from when he first arrived at Jorrvaskr about twenty years prior. For a while, Bjornsson had enjoyed a rather peaceful existence amongst those he considered his family in battle. He was a respected and revered warrior and leader amongst the Companions and even the citizens of Whiterun. And for a time, Bjornsson imagined that he would live out the remainder of his life in this manner. However, even as an elder man, Bjornsson's life was not immune to change. The 201st year of the Fourth Era marked a period of great change in Skyrim on many fronts. Bjornsson had heard from his Companions and from rumors around Whiterun, that for the first time in centuries, dragons had been sighted in Tamriel. Another troubling rumor was that Ulfric Stormcloak was captured by the Empire, but managed to escape, and entered all-out war against the Empire. Bjornsson thought about these troubling matters and realized that he would be a coward to sit by and let Skyrim fall into chaos and destruction. He chose to take his leave of the Companions temporarily, appointing Vilkas as Harbinger for the time. With that, The old warrior took up Agnarr again, and honored his agreement he made years ago; that he would once more come to Ulfric's aid when he needed it. To help free Skyrim from the Empire that kept it chained. Bjornsson was a wiser and calmer man than he was when he first joined the Stormcloaks, but his heart remained in the same place - with his people, his land, and with Talos. (more coming soon) Personality Equipment Relationships Mother Bjornsson's mother (her name is lost to history, and he himself keeps her name as personal) was Bjornsson's first and closest friend. As the woman who brought him into the world, Bjornsson held nothing but respect for her, and in the face of his abusive father, the two were only driven closer. He loved his mother with absolutely all his being, and she taught him many of the values and morals he still holds as an elder man. To this day Bjornsson remembers her with fondness, and she is among the only people who's memory can drive him to express great emotion. Bjornsson's mother is arguably one of his strongest motivations and inspirations as he fights against the Empire for the Stormcloaks. Kodlak Whitemane Bjornsson and Kodlak knew each other and were good friends for over a decade. Kodlak became a father figure to Bjornsson, and helped teach him about discipline and calmness of mind during combat. While Kodlak saw Bjornsson as an ambitious young man with the strength and will to lead, Bjornsson saw Kodlak as a hero, an inspiration, and a true Nord. It was Kodlak that helped Bjornsson overcome his battle lust and berserker tendencies, allowing him to reach his full potential as a disciplined and focused warrior. When Kodlak died, Bjornsson was extremely saddened, but found hope in knowing that he entered Sovngarde. Bjornsson found inspiration to lead the Companions from Kodlak. Irileth Irileth and Bjornsson held a unique relationship. The two did know each other prior to their fateful meeting in the Four Shields tavern. Bjornsson, having lived in Whiterun for around twenty years, was familiar with Whiterun's Court, though he never solicited their company. He and Irileth crossed paths a few times during those years on the streets of Whiterun, their eyes meeting but little beyond that. The two knew of each other as well as their names and significance, but did not see fit to speak to each other. After the Siege of Whiterun where the old court was deposed, Irileth had left Whiterun and was on the run from both Stormcloaks and Imperials. During the waning days of the war, where the Stormcloak campaign for Haafingar was underway, Bjornsson and Irileth met again in the Four Shields tavern in Dragon Bridge. Initially distrusting and hostile towards the man, Bjornsson earned her interest when he defended her from hostile Imperials who confronted her. Afterwards, Irileth felt indebted to the man and decided to accompany him until her debt was repaid. Still, this did not stop her from distrusting him, and the two being strong and fierce personalities, often butted heads and did not see eye to eye. However, after some time they spent together, they were able to learn far more about each other. Bjornsson was a strong and disciplined man, and acted as an anchor for Irileth in many situations physical and emotional. In turn, Irileth possessed a fire and fury which ignited the passion of the old and somber warrior. Together they found that they complemented each other, and eventually it got to the point where they felt they could not live without the other. This resulted in Bjornsson and Irileth committing to each other and ultimately being wed. Ulfric Stormcloak Balgruuf the Greater = = Category:Characters Category:Males Category:Nords Category:Stormcloaks Category:Companions Category:Barbarians Category:Raijoo's Canon